


a compulsion to come back

by sleepy_santiago



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Pirates of the Caribbean Fusion, Historical Inaccuracies, I have taken many liberties, M/M, Pre-Slash, Prompt Fill, Sailing, Swordfighting, i say pre-slash but they're totally into each other and gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:54:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26695573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepy_santiago/pseuds/sleepy_santiago
Summary: Abed Nadir's life has been set out for him. He'll marry his best friend, Annie, rise through the ranks of the navy, and eventually overtake Annie's father, Jeffrey Winger, as Admiral.But plans change when Abed meets a daring young sailor who ropes Abed into escaping from pirates, defying his admiral's orders, and something Annie calls love.
Relationships: Troy Barnes/Abed Nadir
Comments: 9
Kudos: 65





	a compulsion to come back

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for the prompt, anon, <3

“You look good, Nadir, quit fretting.” Admiral Jeffrey Winger’s heavy hand came to rest on Abed’s shoulder. Winger peered at Abed’s reflection in the mirror and smiled. The corners of his blue eyes crinkled. 

Abed noticed burgeoning streaks of white in Winger’s already pale hair. The admiral was no longer the sprightly young lieutenant who’d rescued Abed from the flaming ruins of his hometown fifteen years ago.

“You’ve grown,” Winger said softly. “Within a year, you’ll be ready to wed.”

Abed winced. “I suppose you’ve already decided to whom.”

“It has been decided for years, Nadir.” Winger frowned. “You know what a marriage to my Annie would do for you. You’ll soar through the ranks. She’s a good woman and she’ll make a good wife for you. And…” Winger cleared his throat. “You know I already consider you a son. But it would please me greatly to see it put in writing.”

Abed and Annie, Admiral Winger’s beloved daughter, had been best friends ever since Winger had taken Abed in. They loved one another, but not in that way. Not in the way that mattered most to Winger.

Abed pressed his lips together. Winger had already heard all of his arguments. Instead, Abed adjusted the silken cravat around his neck, tugged on the lapels of his velvet coat, and turned on his polished heel. His sword’s scabbard knocked lightly against his leg.

“Let’s get on with this night, shall we?” Abed offered Admiral Winger a weak smile.

Admiral and ensign strode into the soaring ballroom and were immediately enveloped in the burble and chatter of the guests milling about the glistening floor in sweeping gowns and coattails of every colour.

“Father! Abed!” Annie Winger dashed up to the pair, holding up her voluminous green skirts in a most unseemly manner. Her full cheeks flushed with exertion and her blue eyes shone with a little more than simple excitement. 

Abed indicated the almost-empty wine glass in Annie’s hand. “You couldn’t have waited for us before you got started?”

Annie rolled her eyes even as she kissed her father’s whiskery cheek. “You can’t have expected me to sit around and listen to Mister Hawthorne with the strange ivory wig go on about how  _ eligible  _ a bachelor his  _ fifty-year-old son _ is for an hour?”

Abed shuddered. “No. You made the right decision.” He offered Annie his elbow and she took it with a grin and a squeeze.

Winger clapped Abed on the back. “I’ll be off to mingle, now.” He wrinkled his nose and snatched a flute of champagne off a nearby tray. “You kids have fun.” He winked at Abed and disappeared into the crowd.

“Ugh,” Annie said. “He’s just as bad as Hawthorne.”

“He means well,” Abed said lightly. He steered them away from the throng and toward the French doors that opened onto the moonlit balcony.

A glittering black sea stretched before them, the moon’s pale light skipping across its quivering surface. Abed could see the  _ S.S. Greendale _ moored at the docks slightly to the east, as well as the shapes of several other ships moving peacefully across the horizon.

Annie sighed and combed her fingers through her straight brown hair, as she always did when she was feeling thoughtful. 

“Something on your mind?” Abed asked.

“I don’t want to marry you, Abed.”

“Ouch.”

Annie swatted at his arm. “You know what I mean. I know you don’t want to marry me, either.”

Abed looked down at the polished marble balustrade they leaned against. Just a few metres below was the earth — almost invisible in the dark of night, but Abed knew exactly where the bushes were, where the patches of weeds grew beneath. 

“We don’t have much of a choice,” he said.

“My friend, Britta Perry, did,” Annie said, tracing a wistful finger along the rim of her empty glass. “She married the woman she loved. I’d like to do that.”

“Do you have anyone in mind?”

Annie frowned. “I don’t know.” She pushed away from the balustrade and turned to lean her back against it. Her long hair swung over the edge. If she weren’t the Admiral’s daughter, she’d have been scolded and disallowed to attend the ball with her hair loose like that. “What do you think love’s like?”

“The only love I’ve ever known is that of your father’s. And yours.”

“Yes, but…” Annie sighed again. “Don’t you ever wonder what it’s like to have that one person? The one person you would lay down your life for, would spend the rest of your days with? The person you could share adventures with and write love poems about?”

Abed shot Annie an amused look. “Are you speaking from experience?”

Annie blushed. “Only from experience reading romance novels. Although…”

“Yes?”

“There is this girl I met in town recently, Rachel—” 

“Oh, Rachel who runs the bookshop? Yes, I know her.”

“Yes, I —” Annie cut herself off, whipping around to face the sea again. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“There was a sound. Like a shout, or something.”

Abed scanned the tranquil sea. Nothing seemed to have changed. 

“There it is! Again!” Annie said.

Abed heard it too, this time. The sound was unmistakable — one that made the blood rush through his veins with renewed fervor, made the hairs on the back of his neck stand. Raised voices, the clamour of metal against metal.

The sound of a swordfight.

Abed’s hand wrapped around the hilt of the sword sheathed at his hip. The sound came from somewhere on the docks — the fight must have been hidden behind the  _ S.S. Greendale _ ’s bulky shape. He stood on his toes and peered to the east. 

There was only one new arrival to the scene: the familiar silhouette of another ship, its flag rippling in the wind. Moonlight fell upon the flag and illuminated the three buildings painted on it, the middle building standing twice as tall as the two that flanked it. Abed’s blood ran cold.

“Annie.” Abed’s voice went low, authoritative. “Find your father. Tell him that the  _ City College _ has docked on our shores. Tell him to send his men.”

Annie gasped. “The pirates?”

Abed nodded.

“What about you? What are you doing?”

Abed swung a long leg over the marble railing. “I’m going ahead. See you later, Annie.” He leaned forward, kissed Annie’s forehead, and jumped into darkness.

He landed and rolled into a soft patch of weeds. He sprang right to his feet and started running. 

The fighting grew louder as Abed neared the docks. Sharp, salty sea air and the repetitive motions of running cleared Abed’s head. He mapped out his plan of action as he sped toward the scene. He could already picture it in his head: there were probably a few of Winger’s officers out there already — that was probably who was defending the  _ Greendale _ against the  _ City College _ ’s pirates. From the victorious Spanish-accented shouts of the pirates, Abed estimated that the pirates probably outnumbered the naval officers two-to-one.

Abed skidded onto the wooden dock. A dozen  _ City College _ pirates swarmed on the end of the dock in ratty leather coats — it looked as if they hadn’t made it far before they were apprehended. But there was no sign of any naval men. 

In fact, Abed saw only pirates. They were fighting, certainly, but they clustered tightly around themselves. Were they fighting...among themselves?

Abed snorted. Surely, even  _ City College _ pirates weren’t so disorganized or stupid. He drew his sword in anticipation anyway and crept behind some barrels stacked along the side of the dock as he advanced on the pirates. 

Just then, an agile figure sprang out from the middle of the cluster. This one wasn’t dressed like the pirates — he wore a battered grey jacket with a purple fabric “T” sewn on the breast. A white sailor’s cap perched on his head at such a jaunty angle that Abed knew it had to be stolen. He had dark brown skin that gleamed with sweat and beguiling eyes that latched onto Abed’s right away. 

Abed shrank back despite himself. 

The young man in the strange jacket whirled around and raised his sword in time to block a blow from one of the pirates. His leg swung out and knocked the pirate’s knees out from under him. The young man ran up on top of a stack of barrels, leapt off, and slashed into a row of three pirates with one broad movement of his arm. He began running toward Abed’s barrel pile.

Before Abed could think to react, the man had swung himself over the barrels and landed in a noiseless crouch beside Abed. The man put a finger to his lips.

“ _ Find him _ ,” one of the pirates seethed from the other end of the dock. Abed recognized the small, bald man as Captain Spreck. 

“We don’t have much time,” the young man whispered. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a scroll of paper.

“Who are you?” Abed hissed. “What are you doing with the  _ City College _ pirates?”

“I stole something of theirs,” said the man. “Look, they’re going find me one way or another. This is it for me. I need you to take this—” he placed the scroll in Abed’s hand “—and take it to that ship over there.” He pointed farther down the shore, where a small ship bobbed beside another dock. 

“What?” This man couldn’t be serious.

The pitter-patter of pirate feet drew nearer. 

“I’ll distract them,” the man panted. “Go, okay?”

“Wh—” Abed took a deep breath. “Why in the world would I, a complete stranger, fulfill this ridiculous request for you?”  _ No matter how handsome or intriguing you are _ .

The man’s dark eyes flitted over Abed’s face — his eyes, his lips — and then his body. Abed’s cheeks heated.

“You look smart,” the man finally said. “I trust you.” He began to turn away, but paused to look back at Abed. “Until we meet again, ensign.” He tipped his hat.

With that, the man swung himself over the barrels with a yell and the next thing Abed knew was the loud clash of swords and his legs pumping, taking him far away.

It only took Abed a couple of minutes to reach the next dock. He looked over his shoulder. One of the pirates had pinned the mysterious young man against the wooden planks of the dock. Abed almost cried out, almost turned back, but remembered the scroll in his hand. 

He looked up at the little ship moored here. She had a gleaming blue hull and the words “ _ Childish Tycoon” _ painted in golden letters along her side.

Who was this stranger? This didn’t look like a pirate’s ship — the  _ Childish Tycoon _ looked cared for, tidy, and much too small to host a crew. She didn’t look as if she’d been through mutiny or war.

Abed clambered aboard. He opened a door that led into what looked like the only room on the ship. A small mattress was tucked into the corner. A lantern burned on a scuffed wooden desk. A bookshelf leaned against the far wall, packed tightly with books. Abed ran his fingers over the spines, heart lifting despite the events of the evening. 

Some of his own favourites were represented among these titles —  _ Dick Turpin _ ,  _ The Sword in the Stone _ ,  _ Orpheus and Eurydice _ — along with more than a few he’d never heard of. Some titles were written in different languages with curling or angular script. Some were faded, covers barely clinging to brittle pages, and some were crisp and new.

Abed looked down at the scroll he held. He unfurled the paper and read the title at the top:  _ The Ballad of Mulan _ .

A story. The man had risked his life and battled a whole crew of pirates for a story.

The paper sprung back into a scroll at Abed’s feet when he dropped it. 

Abed needed to go back for him. 

He sprinted across the beach, grey sand rising in clouds behind him as he ran. Abed couldn’t help but wonder what kinds of torture the pirates were subjecting the young man to now. Was he roasting on a spit? Being prodded with sharp instruments? Left to starve and rot in a rat-infested brig? Anxiety clenched Abed’s heart.

He could see  _ City College _ up ahead. Almost there…

“Nadir!” Someone grabbed Abed’s arm and yanked him to a stop.

Abed whirled around, ready to fight back. Instead of a pirate’s beady eyes, though, he was met with Admiral Winger’s icy blue ones. 

“What are you doing, ensign? Annie told me about the pirates. The men are preparing to storm the ship.”

“Wait,” Abed wheezed. “They have a prisoner.” He looked around, eyes wild. A group of naval officers huddled in the treeline a hundred metres away, some polishing their swords.

“A prisoner?”

“He…” Abed panted. “He stole something from them. I’m worried they’re going to punish him. We must save him before we attack the pirates, somehow.”

Winger shook his head. His mouth settled into a grim line. “Stole from pirates? That doesn’t sound like the kind of man we need to be saving. They’re one and the same, that prisoner and the  _ City College  _ scum. We’ll move forward with the attack.”

“No!” Abed shouted. 

Winger froze. “Excuse me?”

“No,” Abed repeated, more coolly. His hands shook. He curled and uncurled his fingers in an attempt to restore some of his composure. “Sir. He’s not a pirate. He’s not scum. You must trust me. We need to help him. Please.”

Winger’s eyes searched Abed’s. For a moment, it looked as if Winger’s eyes softened. Then he looked away.

“Return to the manor, ensign. Keep Annie company. I’ll lead the charge on  _ City College _ .” Winger paused to glance briefly back at Abed. “That’s an order.”

Abed’s heart sank as Winger strode off to join the other officers. He thought of the mysterious young man with the ship full of stories, unaware of the bloodbath that would soon befall him. He thought of Annie, back at the manor, and the stars in her eyes as she spoke of adventures and love and freedom.

“Damn you, Annie,” Abed muttered. 

He turned and started walking toward the manor. Conveniently, the  _ Childish Tycoon _ lay in the same general direction. 

Once Abed was certain that he’d edged out of Admiral Winger’s eyeline, he broke into a run. His boots thundered upon the wooden dock when he reached it. He swung up onto the deck of the  _ Childish Tycoon _ , unmoored the ship, and set sail.

It wasn’t difficult to steer the small ship. The wind blowing in from the west was on Abed’s side, too. By the time he let down the anchor beside the  _ City College _ , the officers onshore hadn’t even finished lacing their boots.

Abed rolled onto the deck of the pirate ship without a sound. It seemed that the pirates, drunk on victory and tired out by the fight, had retired belowdecks already. Abed found a trapdoor in the floor, which he inched open a crack. Orange lantern light flickered and a distant snore floated up from below. 

Abed descended the ladder. Only one pirate sat sprawled in a chair by a small table with a lantern on it. A tankard of ale had spilled across his chest. The tankard itself hung from the pirate’s dangling fingertips, loosening from his grip with each rumbling breath until — 

_ Thud _ . The tankard rolled on the floor. Abed winced, glancing at the pirate, but he didn’t even flutter an eyelash. 

In fact, something was wrong with the pirate. Abed could see the whites of his eyes between his lids…

“Nightshade,” said a voice from behind Abed.

Abed snapped around. The young man leaned against the wall, half-lit in lantern light. 

“A few drops in his ale had him sleepy enough to allow me to pick my way out of this cage without any interruptions.” The man gestured at the iron-barred cell behind him. “But, more importantly…” A radiant smile spread across his face. “You came back for me.”

Abed’s hands fell to his sides. “Well, yes,” he said, rather lamely. “Of course I did. I didn’t want you killed.”

“Oh, I wasn’t going to be killed. I’ve found myself in worse spats before and, look, I’m still alive, aren’t I?” The man’s grin turned smug for a moment before he reverted back to sweetness. “What’s your name, ensign?”

Ensign! The admiral’s men would be upon this ship anytime now.

“Forget that! We need to go, or you really will be killed.” Abed took two strides to close the distance between them and grabbed the man’s wrist. It was warm, and his skin was soft. “A troop of naval officers are prepared to storm this ship and they won’t take any mercy on you.”

“Your men?”

Abed nodded.

“Well, why don’t you go back to them? I’ll do fine on my own. I always have.”

Abed considered this. He could just leave this man to his own devices now that he knew he was safe. He could return to Admiral Winger, join the attack on  _ City College _ , marry Annie, and rise through the ranks until one day he became Admiral Nadir.

Or, a suspiciously Annie-like voice in his mind whispered, he could find out what it was that this young man did with a boat of books. He could ask the man to tell him all the stories he’d never heard before. 

He could choose adventure.

Abed’s hand tightened around the man’s wrist. “We don’t have much time. Let’s go.”

The man smiled again. It was even more stunning up close. “Wait. Not before you answer my question.”

“Your question?”

“Your name,” the man said slowly, but his eyes danced with mirth.

“Oh. Abed. Abed Nadir.”

“Nice to know you, and then meet you, Abed. I’m Troy Barnes.”

“Alright, let’s go!” Impatient, Abed pulled Troy to the ladder and they scampered up onto the deck. 

Winger and his men had run up onto the dock.

“Nadir!” Winger shouted. “What are you doing?”

Abed turned away. “I’m sorry,” he said weakly. He pushed Troy toward the  _ Childish Tycoon. _

“Hold it!” Winger yelled. He and the other officers clambered aboard the  _ City College _ . The officers surged below the deck in search of the pirates, but Winger ran to catch up with Troy and Abed. 

“Go!” Abed shouted, shoving Troy toward the side of the ship. A wave rocked the ship and they stumbled against each other. Troy climbed over the side and prepared to drop onto the deck of the  _ Childish Tycoon _ .

A pirate burst from the trapdoor and started swinging at Winger. Cursing, Winger parried his blows with his sword.

“Abed!” Troy looked down at Abed, who had drawn his sword, ready to fight his surrogate father off from Troy.

“Just go!” Abed called.

“Come with me,” Troy said.

Abed froze and looked up at Troy. Stars glittered around Troy’s head like a crown. His dark eyes shone with moonlight as he gazed down at Abed. Troy held out a hand.

Abed glanced back at the admiral, who was edging the pirate down the deck of the ship. Winger caught Abed’s eye from over the pirate’s shoulder. Then the admiral’s gaze slid to the hand Troy held out toward Abed. Winger slashed at the pirate, still staring at Abed and Troy.

“I’m sorry,” Abed said to Winger again, this time more clearly. He grasped Troy’s hand and heaved himself over the side of the ship, straddling it.

Winger finally plunged his sword into the pirate’s heart. As the unfortunate pirate collapsed at the admiral’s feet, Winger pressed his lips together and gave Abed a curt nod.

It could have been the moon or the starlight, or the slowly breaking dawn, but Abed swore he saw a glimmer of wetness in the aging man’s eye.

Troy tugged at Abed’s hand. “Let’s go, Abed.”

Together, they jumped down from the  _ City College _ and onto the  _ Childish Tycoon. _

Troy cranked the anchor back up and they set sail. Abed jogged to Troy’s side as the shorter man steered the ship away from shore, toward the red sun peeking over the dark horizon.

“Where are we going?” Abed asked. “What is it you do? Where are all those books in your room from?”

“I collect stories, Abed.” Troy adjusted his cap. “I sail around the world by myself, collecting stories. They come from all over. You’ll never believe what I’ve been through to get my hands on some of these. Anything to keep them out of greedy hands like those pirates’.”

“I think I can believe it,” Abed snorted.

“As for where we’re going,” Troy said, “that’s up to you.”

“Really?”

“I’ve never sailed with a companion before,” said Troy. “I think this’ll be fun.”

“ _ The Ballad of Mulan _ ,” said Abed. “Where did that originally come from?”

“China.”

“Can we go there?”

“You bet, Marie Antoinette.”

“Can you tell me what that story’s about?”

Troy smiled. He always smiled with all his teeth, Abed noticed. The rising sun tinted him in a copper glow.

“I’ll tell you all the stories, Abed Nadir.”


End file.
